


Ambedo

by whitchry9



Series: 23 Emotions [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Rain, Stream of Consciousness, matt's musings, reminder of the frailty of life, sensory things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4801760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitchry9/pseuds/whitchry9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's raining, and Matt is sitting on a roof. It's a lot more pleasant than it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ambedo

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [23emotions](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/23emotions) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ambedo  
> n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life, a mood whose only known cure is the vuvuzela.

 Matt is sitting on a rooftop in the middle of spring when he realizes just how alive the city is.

 

He can feel each individual raindrop hitting his skin. They're warm, considering the air temperature, and he thinks he could be able to tell where the water came from if he concentrated hard enough. It hasn't been raining long, just enough to wet the ground and give the city the scent of earth, reminding it what was actually underneath the sidewalks and buildings.

 

Normally he's not a fan of the rain. It clouds his senses and makes him wet, and he hates the smell of damp dog, which always seems to find a way to his nose.

But not today. Today he is on a roof and the air smells as fresh as it could be for New York.

 

His hearing seems to be extra tuned in today. The street vendor who normally sells hot dogs on the sidewalk below where he's sitting is bundled up inside a nearby store, muttering about his arthritis and the weather. Half a block over, a young girl and a young boy, possibly siblings, are splashing in puddles together.

In the building he's sitting on, a woman is telling someone she is pregnant. The other person squeals, and, Matt imagines, pulls her into an embrace. But he's speculating.

He also knows that in the same building, an elderly man is inching closer to death every minute. It's not a surprise to anyone; they have been waiting for it, but Matt is still touched by the harsh contrast with only a floor separating them. (It's why he hates the hospital. Well, one of the reasons why.)

 

Despite the rain, the city does not stop. Businessmen run down the street, crinkling papers held over their head in a vain attempt to protect their perfect hair. Again, Matt is making assumptions.

Taxis come and go, people leave their homes and arrive at work. Everywhere Matt turns his senses to, something is changing. The bakery on the other side of the street is making a fresh batch of pretzels, their door open to lure potential customers in. Matt can smell the salt and the yeast and his mouth waters.

But he can't leave now. He's not done yet.

 

He focuses back on the smell of dirt, how the whole city smells different when it's raining. He listens.

 

A gust of wind blows raindrops sideways, tickling against Matt's skin, and he can hear the nearby trees rustle. He wonders if they're bending, if the wind is strong enough to make wood move. He thinks the rain is slowing, but he can't be sure. Perhaps if he could see the sky, he could tell. He can imagine it though, dark and clouds swirling through the air, like a paintbrush dipped in dirty water.

 

Somewhere below, a heartbeat stops, and a heartbeat begins. The rain is now cold against his skin, the sounds of the city harsher on his ears than they were a moment ago.

He knows that this is how things happen, that people die, and people are born, and sometimes they both happen at once, but he wasn't ready for it today, not when it was so nicely raining.

But now the rain isn't as nice.

 

He shakes off the sound, goes back to listening to the wind push through the leaves of the trees, but it just sounds like they're scolding him. Silly boy, being out in the rain, they tell him.

 

A block over, there is a scream. As Matt jumps from one roof to another, he no longer feels the rain, no longer focusing on the scent of the street and the dirt. All he hears is the ringing shrill in his ears, and can only hope the heartbeat is still strong when he gets there.

 

 

Although if it's still raining when he's done, he probably wouldn't mind too much. It was nice while it lasted.

 


End file.
